


Meeting Mum

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Meeting the Parents, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Mycroft regularly faced down world leaders. It was another entirely to be meeting Greg's mum.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 18
Kudos: 177





	Meeting Mum

Mycroft met with the Prime Minister on a regular basis. He had lunch with the Queen several times a year. And yet none of that was as awkward and nerve-racking as driving into the quiet country village where Greg was waiting for him, along with his mother. It didn't help that he was late; a last-minute meeting with a certain Prime Minister who refused to take 'I'm leaving for holiday' as an excuse.

The village was the sort of quaint, stone-walled place that looked as though it hadn't been touched in a hundred years or more, save for the traffic on the thoroughfare and the occasional car one saw parked off a narrow lane. This was the village of Greg's mother's people, and she had retired here a few years earlier.

The driver expertly navigated the ancient streets, stopping at the bottom of a hill with what could generously be called an alley, but more likely was mostly for runoff. Mycroft got out with his overnight bag, feeling entirely overdressed. But he hadn't wanted to waste time changing when he could be on the way here.

"Thank you, Devon," he said.

"Have a good weekend, sir." Devon gave him a small smile and headed out, leaving Mycroft looking at the hill and the crowded old buildings hunched up against the twilight.

Mycroft took a breath and started up the alley, sticking to the driest spots, wondering why on earth he was so anxious. Well, he knew the answer, but that didn't mean that he had to like it. It wasn't as if Greg's mother was going to murder him in his sleep if this didn't go well. Probably.

Mycroft located the right doorway in the fading light and knocked, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

Greg opened the door moments later. "Mycroft," he grinned, his smile knocking Mycroft's anxiety out as effectively as a candle in a hurricane.

"I do apologize for my tardiness," he said as Greg ushered him inside. 

"It's fine, I know how your job is. Mycroft, this is my mother, Helen. Mum, this is Mycroft."

Mycroft found himself swiftly enveloped in a warm hug. "I'm so glad you made it," she said.

"As I was telling Greg, I apologize for my being so late."

"Oh, it's fine, fine. Greg told me you work in the government. I'm sure someone just demanded a bit more of your time to show off. Greg, take his bag upstairs. Tea?"

Mycroft blinked a few times, surprised by her astute observation. Then again, she was Greg's mother. "Tea would be lovely, thank you," he said. 

Greg smirked and took his bag and suit coat. Helen led the way into a tidy little kitchen and picked up the kettle from the back of the stove. "Was the drive alright?"

"Ah, well, I don't drive, myself, but my driver had no complaints. And you do have lovely views."

"It's a far cry from London, that's for certain," she said, fixing him a cup of tea and handing it to him.

"It has its own charms. I know Greg has talked about how we should get up and take a walk at dawn. Perhaps we'll go look at the stars as well." He followed Helen back into the front room and took a seat next to Greg, who had somehow managed to get back downstairs without being heard.

"For right now, we can just relax," said Greg, putting a hand on his knee.

"Indeed," said Mycroft sipping his tea while Helen picked up some knitting. "And I am very glad to be here."

"A whole weekend to ourselves. Did you put your phone on silent?"

Mycroft reached into his pocket. "I did now," he said. "If it's an absolute emergency they'll know how to reach me."

"You mean they'll call my phone," chuckled Greg.

The three of them lapsed into relaxed conversation. The tea was good, the company better, and Mycroft did indeed feel like he was starting to relax and leave London behind.

Helen brought out some nibbles after a while. Another hour or so after that she bid them goodnight.

As soon as she was up the stairs, Greg leaned in and kissed him. "Hi," he said, chuckling against Mycroft's lips.

Mycroft put his arms around him. "Yes, I think we're well past that at this point.”

"Come upstairs, I want you to change into something more comfortable and then I really do want to take a night walk. Get some fresh air in our system. I suppose we could go down to the pub, as well, if you wanted."

Mycroft was not normally a 'pop down to the pub for a pint' sort of man, but he knew Greg enjoyed it sometimes and he was, after all, supposed to be relaxing.

"Sounds perfect," he said, letting Greg lead him upstairs to the tiny guest bedroom.

He quickly changed into something more leisurely and comfortable, pulling Greg in for a kiss as he finished up.

"Mum's a heavy sleeper," said Greg with a twinkle in his eye. "But let's take that walk first."

"Probably best," agreed Mycroft, following him back downstairs and then outside.

The stars were indeed bright against the velvet sky. Greg held his hand as they walked. It was comfortable and right. It felt like maybe this was the sort of place they might retire to one day, just as Greg's mother had done.

The pub was easy enough to spot with the light spilling out of it into the street. Mycroft was a little uncertain about public affection, but Greg kept his hand all the way into the pub, sitting him down at a table and going to get them a couple of pints.

The average age of the pub dwellers was also closer to retirement than not, but everyone seemed happy and welcoming and a few greeted Greg by name as he made his way back to the table with their drinks.

"I still have some cousins and other relations here," said Greg with a smile. "And I'm sure my Mum talks about me, too."

"Well, she has every reason to brag about you," said Mycroft.

Greg smiled and squeezed his knee under the table. "Just remember, she'll be bragging about you sooner rather than later, too."

"As long as she gives a good report," said Mycroft, sipping his drink.

"I'm sure she will. Really, it's not a huge deal that you were late. She understands having job obligations."

"What did she do before retirement?" asked Mycroft. He could have looked it up, but hadn't.

"Something with computers. I'm honestly not sure what exactly. But I wouldn't be surprised if she had clearance herself."

"Most interesting," said Mycroft, resisting the urge to pull out his mobile and put out an inquiry.

"Young Lestrade, it's nice to see you," said an old man as he came up to their table.

"Mister Hatcher, good to see you, too," said Greg. "Care to join us?"

"No, no that's alright, I can see your mister there is taking good care of you. I just wanted to let you know I'm glad you found someone. You're still young, should enjoy yourself."

Mycroft managed not to choke on his beer. "I appreciate that," said Greg. "And yeah, he takes excellent care."

"Good," he repeated, walking off to the next table.

"You alright?" asked Greg.

"They're very welcoming," said Mycroft.

"They're happy for me. And again, I'm sure Mum has already told the whole village about us."

Mycroft rather quickly finished his pint. Greg patted his back. "Come on, let's get some fresh air."

They escaped the pub and Greg led the way out to the outskirts of the village. They climbed a low hill and took a seat in the lee of a rock, leaning against it and looking up at the stars.

"It's beautiful here," said Greg softly.

Mycroft looked at Greg. "It is."

Greg met his gaze and leaned in to kiss him. "You're secretly a terrible romantic, Mister Holmes."

"Well, don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to keep."

"But of course." Greg kissed him again, then turned his attention back to the sky.

Mycroft leaned against him, listening to the sounds of the country around them, eventually nodding off against Greg's shoulder.

Greg nudged him awake a short time later. "Come on, you'll get a terrible crick in your neck that way."

"Worth it," muttered Mycroft, letting Greg help him to his feet. They held hands again all the way back to the house and up the stairs, only letting go to prepare for bed, and snuggling close to sleep.

**

Mycroft woke early from habit. He could hear movement downstairs, even over Greg's soft snoring. He quietly slipped from bed and pulled on a robe, heading downstairs.

Helen was in the kitchen. She nodded at Mycroft and poured him a cup of tea. "Would you mind slicing the bread?" she asked.

"Not at all," said Mycroft, going to where a fresh loaf of bread waited next to the bread knife.

"You and Greg were out late," she said, cracking eggs into the pan.

"We had a drink at the pub and then went stargazing. I'm afraid I fell asleep." Mycroft carefully sliced the bread. 

"He does enjoy going out there when he's here."

"I can see why, it is lovely." Mycroft finished cutting the bread and hesitated. "Mrs. Lestrade..."

"Helen, please," she said, not taking her eyes off her pan.

Mycroft took a breath. "Helen, I know it's perhaps an old custom, but... I wanted to ask you if I may ask Greg's hand in marriage."

She stilled for a moment, then raised her eyes up to his. The moment stretched out as she studied his face. "I think you'll treat him right," she said at last. 

"I want nothing more than his happiness," said Mycroft with honesty.

"I can tell. You have my permission, but it's up to him, though I'm fairly certain he'll say yes." Helen smiled at him and turned back to her pan.

Greg came yawning in a few minutes later. "Are you two talking about me?" he asked, slouching over to the kettle.

"Nothing bad," said Mycroft, kissing Greg's cheek.

Greg smiled at him and finished fixing his tea, going to the table to drink it. Mycroft went to sit next to him with his own tea, feeling charmingly domestic, especially as Greg leaned against him.

Helen smiled at the pair as she brought over breakfast. "I'm going to take my morning walk after we eat, so you'll have at least an hour to yourselves, if not longer."

Mycroft was certain he was blushing as he took a few bites of his breakfast. Greg squeezed his knee under the table. "Thanks, Mum. We might take a walk ourselves."

"This is delicious," said Mycroft, swallowing around his embarrassment. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," said Helen, taking a seat.

They made small talk as they ate. Mycroft offered to do the dishes as they finished and Helen left them to it.

Mycroft washed up as Greg went up to take a shower and get started for the day. He thought about his plans and hoped that everything would go as well as he hoped.

When Mycroft finished he headed upstairs for his own shower. Greg was lounging in bed when he finished, flipping through a dog eared book. "Ready?" he asked.

"Certainly," answered Mycroft leaning in for a kiss.

Greg smiled and kissed him back, then rolled to his feet. They headed downstairs and out into the fresh air. Greg took a deep breath and smiled at Mycroft. "How are you feeling?"

"Good. But really, I always feel good when I'm with you."

Greg beamed and leaned in to kiss him one more time, then led the way down the street. The bells peeled out from the village church, causing them to look up.

"The church has been here 1100 years, I think," said Greg, turning towards it.

"And your mother's people have been here as long, I'd imagine."

"More or less," said Greg, crossing the street and taking a few steps up to the churchyard. "There's a lot of them here. This is my great-grandmother." He led the way past rows of stones and brought Mycroft to one worn by time. "There's another graveyard on the edge of town, now."

"It's nice to be so connected to your family," said Mycroft quietly. 

"Hey, my Mum likes you. You're practically family already."

Mycroft hesitated. "Speaking of that..." He took Greg's hand and led him to a shady spot under the tree. With a deep breath he went down to one knee. "Gregory... will you marry me?"

Greg stared at him for a moment, eyes welling. "Oh, Mycroft," he said softly. "Of course I will."

Mycroft stood and kissed Greg gently, slipping a ring on his finger. "I know I'm not particularly demonstrative in my affections, but I do love you."

Greg smiled. "I love you, too." He looked at Mycroft with love clear in his eyes, then glanced over at the church. "Can we get married here?" he asked.

"I would be honored," said Mycroft, squeezing his hand.

"I never thought I'd get married again, but that's because I never thought I'd ever have someone like you." Greg leaned against him.

"Well, I never thought I'd get married at all. I think that makes us even," said Mycroft.

Greg wiped his eyes. Come on there's more of the town to see. We can make wedding plans while we walk."

"I can think of nothing better." Mycroft kissed the back of Greg's hand.

Greg grinned at him, then led the way back out of the churchyard. They strolled around the village, sticking to the quieter streets, talking about their hopes and dreams as they went. It was the happiest Mycroft had been in he didn't know how long.

They finally arrived back at the house. Helen was in the kitchen, and Mycroft listened as Greg went to tell her the good news. He went on upstairs to their room.

Greg appeared a short time later. "Mum's over the moon for us." He looped his arms around Mycroft's waist. "She wants to have a few folks over for dinner tonight and introduce us."

"That's fine," said Mycroft, leaning back against him.

Greg kissed his throat. 

Mycroft smiled. "Your mother is right downstairs."

"Next time we'll stay somewhere else," said Greg, sliding his hand around. "Or maybe you can be quiet."

"Both?" said Mycroft, biting his lip as Greg slipped a hand into his trousers.

"Can I get you off?" asked Greg in Mycroft's ear.

"Oh, I'm certain you can," said Mycroft, rolling his hips against Greg.

Greg kissed his throat again, stroking him slowly. Mycroft got his trousers open to give Greg room and leaned against him, closing his eyes. There was a frisson of danger to the moment that made it all the sweeter.

Twisting his wrist, Greg made Mycroft bite back a gasp. He started to stroke him a little faster, clearly enjoying Mycroft's shivers.

Mycroft clasped a hand over his own mouth, trying to keep quiet and not quite succeeding.

"You're beautiful," whispered Greg, fishing a handkerchief from Mycroft's pocket. "Come for me."

Mycroft whimpered as he came, Greg catching the mess and kissing his throat one more time.

As soon as Mycroft regained some semblance of his faculties, he turned and all but shoved Greg over towards the bed, getting his flies open with trembling hands.

Greg sat down heavily, making the bed creak, but Mycroft barely noticed as he went to his knees and swallowed his cock.

"Yeah," whispered Greg, one hand in Mycroft's hair.

Mycroft expertly worked him over, listening to the small noises Greg couldn't quite keep in, loving the weight of him on his tongue. He could feel how close Greg was already and it took almost no time to bring him over, swallowing his release.

Greg flopped back, grinning. "God, but I love you," he muttered.

Mycroft climbed into the bed after him and curled up on his chest. "I love you, too. Let's take a nap.”

Greg chuckled and ran fingers through his hair. Mycroft smiled, glad for Greg, for this weekend together, and, soon, the rest of their lives. 


End file.
